


Between

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 18:17:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15273444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis attends even Noctis’ omega.





	Between

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

There’s no time before the meeting to do much about the mess, and it isn’t Ignis’ place to scold his alpha prince—at least, not unless he has to. So he lets the matter go and drives Noctis to another council meeting while the night’s to do list tallies up higher in his mind. As he drops Noctis off, Noctis pauses just outside the driver’s door, telling him quietly, “I wanna use him again when I get home.”

Ignis nods and stifles his sigh. Noctis shuts the door, and Ignis pulls off, heading right back where he came from. Some days he wonders why he even bothers living elsewhere. Noctis consumes ninety percent of his time, and despite the occasional begrudging thought, Ignis wouldn’t actually want that to change.

The apartment smells just as stuffy as he left it—Ignis opens all the windows and digs out a new air freshener to place on the coffee table. The worst of it is in Noctis’ room, but there’s no fixing that. Ignis walks right in and finds Prompto still there: sprawled out across Noctis’ king sized bed, face down, panties down around one ankle and his rear thoroughly fucked open. His thighs are caked in Noctis’ mess, his back splattered right up to his shoulder blades. He lifts his face just high enough off the pillow to look back at Ignis, and he smiles dazedly. His eyes are still half-lidded and dilated, pale body still flushed beneath his freckles. He hums a pleasant, “Hey.”

When Prompto first applied to the position, Noctis leaning eagerly into the idea, Ignis had thought it would work well—Prompto might not be noble-born, but he loves Noctis for _Noctis_ , and he always seemed to have so much energy: he was one big explosion of sunshine and enthusiasm. But the royal line has always been a virile one, and Ignis should’ve known that sooner or later, Noctis would tire even Prompto out. Prompto looks as though he’s been chained to the bed for days, fucked mercilessly and endlessly, like he couldn’t move if he wanted to—and he clearly doesn’t want to.

Ignis, unaffected by a fellow omega temptingly laid out before him, comes over to chide, “You need a shower.”

Prompto groans and squirms. His ass rises higher off the bed, thighs rubbing together, his puckered hole visibly clenching, still thoroughly exposed. He still looks loose and easy. And maybe Noctis would be okay with that—clearly, he doesn’t mind giving Prompto multiple rounds. But the time spent on this meeting will give the mess time to dry, and the sweat and seed will make an even worse stench, and Ignis’ prince deserves so much better. Ignis would’ve tidied things up even if Noctis hadn’t shown any interest in taking Prompto again. Ignis stresses, “ _Prompto_.”

Prompto whimpers, “He’s a monster,” even though they both know that Prompto loved every moment. “He broke me; I’ll never stand again...”

“I’m sure we can find someone else willing to take your place,” Ignis dryly suggests, to which Prompto instantly snaps to attention. It’s an empty threat, of course—Noctis wouldn’t want anyone else, and Ignis himself has grown quite fond of Prompto. Prompto must know that, but he still blushes and pushes slowly up to sit. He winces when there’s weight on his ass, but he still manages to peel himself off the bed. There’s a large wet patch left behind, but Ignis expected nothing less.

As Prompto stumbles off the bed and hobbles towards the shower, Ignis asks, softer, “Would you like help?” There have, occasionally, been times where Noctis has run Prompto so ragged that Ignis had to hold him up in the bath and gently clean him off. But Noctis usually likes to be around to watch that, and Ignis would hope that Noctis wouldn’t go _that_ hard on nights when he couldn’t be around for the aftercare.

Then again, that’s what Ignis is for: everything that Noctis needs done. And there’s a lot to do tonight, so Ignis is pleased when Prompto decides, “Nah, s’okay.”

Ignis calls after him, “Leave the door open,” just in case. Prompto nods and goes.

Opening both the door and windows in the bedroom, Ignis then starts on the sheets. He puts them all through the wash, including the stained pillowcases that Prompto probably had to bite into. Even the blankets are folded next to the machine, waiting for the next load. Ignis has spares of everything tucked away for just such an occasion. While he’s at it, he picks the discarded clothes up off the floor and sweeps. There’s a pizza box in the corner that Ignis folds for the recycling. He’s just finished straightening all the knocked-askew pictures on the far wall when Prompto returns, naked and a little damp with his hair ruffled from the blow dryer.

The first thing Prompto goes for is his phone, which sits next to his camera on the nightstand, but Ignis confiscates it before he can get a chance. Prompto whines, but Ignis holds firm. “Noctis can’t be distracted with King’s Knight right now.” Prompto pouts but doesn’t try to pretend he was going to do anything else. Ignis knows him too well.

Because Prompto is clearly still a little out of it, Ignis does a peripheral check of his body before declaring the matter closed. Prompto passes, though he still smells faintly of his alpha, and there are light bruises from teeth and fingers that soap and hot water can’t scrub away. When he’s satisfied, Ignis retires to the bed and pats his lap. Prompto smiles and fetches the brush from the washroom before coming back and crawling forward. 

These are the little fiddly things that Ignis probably doesn’t _have_ to do, but he enjoys the calm moments with another omega anyway. Prompto turns and slumps happily in his lap, facing out, perhaps a tad too wet for Ignis’ crisp clothes, but it’ll do. Then he passes Ignis the brush, and Ignis brings it to his yellow hair. Noctis will only ruin it with his fingers as soon as he’s home, but it’s still important to Ignis to make his prince’s omega as pretty as possible. Prompto practically purrs at the gentle ministrations. For all of Prompto’s youthful silliness, Ignis is overall quite pleased with him: he keeps Noctis happy, and that’s all that really matters.

After a good bit of brushing, Prompto’s hair returned to its perfectly coifed glory, Ignis shoos him off and lets him lie down again. Prompto snuggles into Noctis’ pillow. He shoots Ignis a small frown a heartbeat later, probably at the pillows being changed so they don’t reek of _Noctis_ anymore, but that’s a wrong that will be righted soon. Ignis ignores the look and heads over to the wardrobe, pulling open the door dedicated just to Prompto for when he’s at home. On a whim, Ignis selects a pair of royal black panties and returns to slide them up Prompto’s legs. As Noctis prefers, they’re a tad too small; they don’t quite cover all of Prompto’s rear, but they make for an attractive sight. Ignis steps back afterward, admiring his work.

Prompto asks tiredly, “Can I have my phone now?”

“No, but you can go back to resting if you like, so long as you’re ready for Noct when he returns.”

Prompto arches his back, thrusting his curvaceous ass into the air, and wriggles it as he promises, “I always am.”

Satisfied, Ignis leaves to go make Noctis dinner, wanting to satiate _all_ of his prince’s hungers.


End file.
